⇾ 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈

Chapter Sixteen: Epstein's a Pretty Bird

Right at noon😎 I'm proud

March 23, 1964

Donna's POV

"Look at this, then, Donna." I looked up from my cereal to see John holding up a copy of his book, In His Own Write. Today was the release date, something he'd been looking forward to for weeks now.

After filming today, he was set to go onto the BBC to promote the 78-page hardcover book. The ensemble was complete with poems, short stories, drawings, and an introduction by the one and only, Paul McCartney.

He opened the book and cleared his throat as Paul joined us, coming from his room with a confused face on.

"Liddypool," read John aloud. "Reviving the old tradition of Judro Bathing is slowly but slowly dancing in Liddypool once more. Had you remembering these owld custard of Boldy Street blowing? The Peer Hat is very popularce for sun eating and Boots for Nude Brighter in handys when sailing. We are not happy with her Queen Victorious Monologue, but Walky Through the Gallery is goodly when the rain and sit Georgie House is black (and white from the little pilgrims flying from the Hellsy College...." Paul came up beside John and quickly reached to snap the book closed, then making a beeline for the other side of the room and John began to chase him around. I watched them in disbelief. I couldn't count how many times I'd asked myself how I'd ended up surrounded by such immature men.

Paul managed to snatch the book out of John's hands and stood up on the couch, flipping open to a page. "On Safairy!" he read aloud, swerving out of the way of John's hands trying to catch him. "In the jumble...the mighty jumble!...Whide Hunter sleeps tonight.

"At the foot of the bed, Othman kept wogs for poisonous snacks such as deadly cobbler and apply python.

"Little did he nose that the next day in the early owls of the morecombe, a true story would actually happy...John!" John had successfully taken the book back.

"Alec Speaking!" yelled John.

I stood up with my now-empty cereal bowl and looked at John alarmingly. "John, love, you're going to get us kicked out of here," I said with a laugh.

"It's alright, dear," he said. "We're moving out anyways." He took a perch on the coffee table and Paul came and joined me in the kitchen, taking a packaged muffin from the bowl on the counter and leaning down on his elbows to watch John curiously.

"He is putting it lithely when he says / Quobble in the Grass / Strab he down the soddieflays / Amo amat amass—!" A loud knock at the door.

"Well done, John," said Paul. "You've got the neighbors on us."

"You were doing it too," I snapped at Paul. He put his hands up defensively.

George was distracted when I opened the door. He was looking in the wrong direction and almost hit me directly in the face when he tried to knock again.

"George!" I squeaked, falling backwards to avoid his hit. He turned back to me with a frantic look on his face, his eyes wide and alarmed.

"Sorry, Donna," he said bashfully, his face turning pink.

I shook my head. "It's quite alright, "I said to him. I enjoy getting hit in the face."

"Are John and Paul killing each other?" he asked. "I could hear them all the way down the hall."

I shook my head. "No, they're not, surprisingly. They're reading John's book."

"Geo!" John said, coming up behind me and putting a hand on my shoulder. "Come on in, old chap! I'm just telling Donna and Paul the story of 'Alec Speaking!'"